Essays, Philosophical, Historical, and Literary, Том 1

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C. Dilly, 1789 - Всего страниц: 466

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Стр. 29 - To hear the solemn curfew ; by whose aid (Weak masters though ye be) I have be-dimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war : to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt...
Стр. 409 - Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar; Wait the great teacher, Death; and God adore. What future bliss, He gives not thee to know, But gives that hope to be thy blessing now. Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never Is, but always To be blest. The soul, uneasy, and confined from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Стр. 68 - I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart of a King, and of a King of England too...
Стр. 413 - Were we to press, inferior might on ours; Or in the full creation leave a void, Where, one step broken, the great scale's destroy'd: From Nature's chain whatever link you strike, Tenth, or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike. And, if each system in gradation roll Alike essential to th' amazing whole, The least confusion but in one, not all That system only, but the whole must fall.
Стр. 22 - Never, lago. Like to the Pontic sea, Whose icy current and compulsive course Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on To the Propontic and the Hellespont ; Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love. Till that a capable and wide revenge Swallow them up. — Now, by yond marble heaven, In the due reverence of a sacred vow {Kneels, I here engage my words.
Стр. 22 - O, that the slave had forty thousand lives ! One is too poor, too weak for my revenge. Now do I see 'tis true. Look here, lago ; All my fond love thus do I blow to heaven : 'Tis gone. Arise, black vengeance, from thy hollow cell ! Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne To tyrannous hate ! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught, For 'tis of aspics
Стр. 414 - Suns run lawless thro' the sky; Let ruling Angels from their spheres be hurl'd, Being on Being wreck'd, and world on world; Heav'n's whole foundations to their centre nod, And Nature tremble to the throne of God.
Стр. 415 - All discord, harmony not understood ; All partial evil, universal good : And, spite of pride, in erring reason's spite, One truth is clear, WHATEVER is, is RIGHT.
Стр. 401 - This Essay affords an egregious instance of the predominance of genius, the dazzling splendour of imagery, and the seductive powers of eloquence. Never were penury of knowledge and vulgarity of sentiment so happily disguised. The reader feels his mind full, though he learns nothing ; and, when he meets it in its new array, no longer knows the talk of his mother and his nurse.
Стр. 343 - Man feems to me fo aftonifhing an object of temporary admiration as the celebrated friend of the Lord Brooke, the famous Sir Philip Sidney. The learned of Europe dedicated their works to Him; the republic of Poland thought him at leaft worthy to be in the nomination for their crown. All the mufes of England wept his death. When we at this diftance of time inquire what prodigious merits excited fuch admiration, what do we find ? Great valour.

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